


The Woes of a Professor Surrounded by Hormonal Teenagers

by MaddiesLullaby



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Frustrated Minerva, Mutual Pining, Sassy Severus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-28 00:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30131511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddiesLullaby/pseuds/MaddiesLullaby
Summary: Minerva's curse of being overly invested in the Potters' love lives despite trying her best not to just might send her into well deserved retirement.Or a series where each chapter centers around how Minerva brought together, knowingly or unknowingly, a Potter and the love of their lives.
Relationships: Albus Severus Potter/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, James Sirius Potter/Original Female Character(s), Lily Luna Potter/Lysander Scamander
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	1. James Potter

“Better luck next time, Mr. Potter,” Minerva would deadpan.

“I sure hope so, Professor,” James would reply, a cheeky smile on his face.

James Potter asking Lily Evans out was always a public affair. Whether it was in the hallways, in the courtyard, in the Great Hall, or even sometimes in the middle of classes, it was always done in front of a large crowd.

“I’m overflowing with so much love that I want all of Hogwarts to share it with me,” he would flamboyantly announce when asked why.

This meant that more often than not, Minerva would have a front row seat to the show. Not that she would openly admit that she enjoyed any of it. Afterall, she was a Professor and had to be as impartial as she could. But there was no denying that she was especially fond of James Potter. While he could be insufferable at times and his long-standing rivalry with Severus Snape led him and his friends to gang up on the young Slytherin, he was one of her best students and behind the deep layers of cockiness, she knew there was a heart of gold. Enter Lily Evans. Also one of her best students. And the object of James Potter’s affections. Which she had been very clear about not reciprocating. Emphasis on very.

Minerva had to admit, the young Potter boy was quite obnoxious when it came to the redhead. She knew he would not be gaining her affection anytime soon if he stayed on that path and every day, she inched closer to sitting the kid down and telling him exactly that. But she was intent on keeping the boundaries between student and instructor intact, and she was content with just wishing him better luck next time. And he would reply with the large grin. Then came the fifth-year incident where lines were crossed, and she had to put both all five boys in detention until the end of the year. She instructed Slughorn on keeping an eye on Severus and the company he kept.

“Potter, a word?” She could not help but call at the end of the last day of detention. “The rest of you can head on out.”

“Yes, Professor?”

She had sighed. How she hated breaking the boundaries, but after the incident, it was a must.

“Maybe you should change your methods, Potter. I hoped that you would have realized this by now. The fights in the hallways, the ganging up, it all needs to stop.”

“But Professor, I’m only defending myself!” He had vehemently replied.

“Half of the time, you are. The other half, you stir trouble. And look what happened to Miss Evans?”

He was silent at that.

“No one deserves to be called such a heinous term, Mr. Potter. How do you think Miss Evans felt?”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” James had replied, looking bashful.

“I am not the one you should be apologizing to. But I am not sure Miss Evans would want to hear it from you either. I know you are rather… infatuated with her, to say the least. But maybe starting next year, be a little more considerate of her feelings. Maybe she is not too fond of the public declarations and displays.”

Minerva threw him a pointed look, and he at least had the decency to blush. James seemed to not be able to meet her gaze anymore. Good. Maybe she was getting somewhere.

“James,” she said, looking at him over her glasses, dropping the formalities. “I am sure you would do a much better job if you dropped the… how did Miss Evans put it again? Ah, the _arrogant toerag_ act. I know that deep down, you are a better person than what you pretend to be. Do you seriously think I did not know that you, Mr. Pettigrew, and Mr. Black accompany Mr. Lupin every month in the forest? You are my best Transfiguration student. I am sure the Animagus idea was yours. Don’t be nervous, this will not be leaving this office,” she assured him when she saw his eyes widening in fear.

She had told him to stop the act, and to start behaving like the person she knew he was. Minerva prided herself in always maintaining proper decorum where her students were involved, and to never cross the line with them, but she had told herself that this was for the good of all.

Now, halfway through their seventh year, she noticed that her advice had not been in vain. While Lily had spent the better half of sixth year steering away from James, Minerva could notice that she did not exactly loathe him the way she used to. She had gone from hating the boy, to simply disliking him, to being civil, to dare she say friendship by the time they had reached seventh year. As for Potter, she was proud of him. He had gone from being the biggest troublemaker in the history of Hogwarts to Gryffindor’s Head Boy. Though he was still tense around Severus, he seemed to be making efforts in not firing first, although he still had a long way to go when it came to not insulting him.

She could not help but keep an eye on the two students. Slowly, she saw Lily Evans start laughing at his jokes a little more. He seemed just as enamored as he had been in the past but kept her feelings in mind and avoided confessions in front large crowds. Then came the longing stares from both sides. The blushing was especially bad. Minerva did not do well with pining, and she was too invested in this to simply ignore it. And it seemed like most of the castle had been following the two of them after they realized that James Potter and Lily Evans may or may not be interested in each other but too dense to notice.

Finally, a week before the February Hogsmeade trip, Minerva had been minding her own business, and grading papers in her office, when she overheard a conversation outside her door.

“I was just wondering if maybe you’d like to come to Hogsmeade with me?” James said.

Well, that was the gist of it at least. Behind the bumbling, stuttering, and the jumbled words that came out of his mouth so fast she thought he would choke on his own tongue. The reply had been instant.

“Yes.”

Also a lot of bumbling there. There was that Gryffindor bravado for you. She heard Lily mutter something about the library and some potion homework before she heard her footsteps leading her away. When she could no longer hear her in the corridor, Minerva poked her head out the door to see James Potter standing there, a dumb smile on his face, his cheeks crimson, and his hair looking like an explosive charm went off in them. He did have the habit of running his hand through his hair when he was nervous. From what she gathered, he probably came just short of ripping it.

“Well done, Potter,” she said, looking at him over her glasses, before closing her door.

Minerva promised herself to never get this invested again in anyone of her students’ love lives. Boy, was she wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Harry!


	2. Harry Potter

Minerva had promised herself after James Potter that she would no longer get this invested in any of her students’ personal lives ever again. And she stuck to that for about a decade and a half. Until Harry Potter began his second year at Hogwarts. The second she had caught little Ginny Weasley’s hopeful stares across the table, she knew the last seconds of her minding her own business were near. Of course, it was a Potter again. And of course, he had to go save her from a Basilisk, which probably made the poor girl fall deeper in love with him.

Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley had been vastly different from James Potter and Lily Evans. This time, _she_ had been in love with _him_ , and aside from the disastrous Valentine singing dwarf she had sent him – seriously, who even thought of using pickled toads as a rhyme? – there had been no grand displays. It all has been quite uneventful on their side, as Harry Potter had contented himself with ignoring Miss Weasley’s longing stares, despite her feelings being common knowledge amongst the Gryffindor house. Minerva thought she was safe this time. Surely, she could ignore the two of them now that it was obvious that Potter did not reciprocate, nor acknowledge, the younger girl’s feelings. She caught wind of Hermione Granger helping her out and thought the whole ordeal was over when Ginny had denied attending the Yule Ball as Harry’s date and had started getting along rather well with Michael Corner. Similarly, Potter had seemed rather smitten with Miss Chang. Though she was not satisfied with herself for even noticing them in the first place, she had kept her nose out of their business, and unlike James and Lily, she had not crossed the boundary between Professors and students to offer either of them any advice. She could wash her hands from it.

Right. Wishful thinking.

Because the second Miss Weasley got on that thestral to follow him into the Ministry of Magic, Minerva _knew_ nothing was over. Oh, sure, she tried to tell herself she was just like Miss Lovegood and Mr. Longbottom, helping a friend in a time of need. But deep down, she _knew_. And regrettably, she was involved. Once again. Great.

The following year, she realized that Harry Potter had the same lovesick puppy face his father used to sport. And Merlin, the _pining_ was even worse. Because this time, Potter’s gaze was following Miss Weasley around any room she was in and she seemed oblivious. Minerva almost wanted to break something at the sheer frustration of it all. However, Ginny seemed to be doing worse and worse, often looking annoyed or saddened, and she could not help but holding her back after class one day.

“Miss Weasley, is everything alright?”

The girl had put on a brave face.

“Yes, Professor.”

“It does not seem like it.”

“It’s nothing,” she had replied, her cheeks staining red. “Just… relationship problems.”

Her ears had perked up at that.

“Ah. Well, in that case, Miss Weasley, while I don’t usually make it a habit to offer my insight in such matters, may I give you a piece of advice?”

Still red, Ginny had nodded hesitantly.

“Sometimes, holding on may do more damage than letting go. It would be a shame if your grievances affected other aspects of your life. You are young, nothing at this age is set in stone.”

Miss Weasley had nodded again and thanked her for her advice. A few days later, after a fight so explosive at the entrance of the Gryffindor Common Room that even professors had caught wind of it – something about him being too overbearing and pushing her through the portrait hole or something of the sort – the two had broken up. Just like that, and through Potter’s innate ability to get himself in every ounce of trouble he possibly could and land himself in detention, she had ended up being the Seeker for Gryffindor’s team, winning the Quidditch cup, and, in the process, snagging herself the Chosen One as a boyfriend. All was well.

Of course, it was not.

The following year had been spent in fear and gloom, constantly looking over her shoulder while also trying to protect her students from the new tyrannical rule that had taken over Hogwarts. Minerva was a firsthand witness of the cruelty the Carrow siblings subjected the children to. Not much of her time was spent dwelling on the relationship between Harry and Ginny. She was far too busy wondering if one was still alive, wherever he was, and if the other would remain it, whatever she was plotting.

After the war, Minerva had tried to forget the atrocities she saw in the castle that year. She had poured her heart and soul into rebuilding the castle, taking on the Headmistress title. As they had worked tirelessly that summer to rebuild, she had decided to observe the two of them. After all, she told herself, it would be a welcome distraction from the somber mood.

Many of those who had fought in the war had stayed back to help rebuild the castle. Though quips and chatter could be heard around the halls while they all had worked together, it had been hard to deny the tension. The Three Broomstick had, however, always been packed every night as the students, former students, and Order members would gather for dinner and drinks. There, the mood had been a little less dark than it had in the castle. Minerva had indulged as well, and so had her colleagues. And there, she had noticed the staring.

_Here we go again._

Whenever Ginny Weasley would stop staring, Harry Potter would, quite coincidently, look up at her with those lovesick eyes. Minerva was no fool. She knew that Weasley had been scared that Potter did not love her anymore – load of rubbish if you asked her, anyone with eyes could see that he still did – and as for Potter, he had not stopped blaming himself since the war for the deaths around him, including Miss Weasley’s very own brother Fred. She could never dwell to think on that too much as the thought of the Weasley twins not being twins anymore tore her heart to pieces. She had thought that with some time and patience, the two would eventually gravitate again towards the other.

_Noooooo. Of course not._

So, after a month of the two playing staring hide and seek, and countless sighs, she had had enough. The boy was observant enough to have survived in the wilderness for the better part of a year but not to notice that the object of his affections was burning a hole through his head. Make it make sense. As Potter had been at the counter waiting for Madam Rosmerta to arrive with the butterbeers he surely would be taking back to the table he shared with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, and Ginny had seemed to be in a conversation with Luna Lovegood that she only seemed to be half listening to, Minerva had stood up, interrupting Filius in his anecdote and earning herself a baffled stare by Pomona, and had headed to the bar.

“Madam Rosmerta, would you please, for my sanity, send a bottle of that butterbeer over to Miss Ginny Weasley and tell her it’s from Harry here.”

Rosmerta had let out a boisterous laugh before uncapping a bottle and walking over to the table. Turning around, Minerva had taken one look at Potter’s face, red with embarrassment and shock.

“P-Professor,” he had protested weakly.

“Mr Potter, if I have to see the two of you steal glances at each other for one more second, I will tear my own hair out,” she had simply replied before she had headed back to her seat.

Before sitting down, she had seen Ginny accept the bottle, an astonished look on her face before she had met Harry’s eyes for the first time since the war. He had given her a timid smile, which she had returned. And the rest was history.

She thought of it quite fondly as time went by and as she sat down in the Headmistress’ Office years later, an owl reached her desk. The sense of inner peace was immediately gone as she opened the letter. Surely not…

The picture showed a newborn baby fussing about in his blanket, with the name James Sirius Potter inscribed under it. If the first and middle name had not been enough to cause a near heart attack, Minerva took a second to realize what this meant. She put the picture down and a brief thought of what her future might look like fleeted by.

What were the chances that she would be interfering with not one, not two, but three Potters’ love lives in her lifetime? This reassured her instantly. Low. Very low.

Laughing to herself, she began writing a congratulatory letter to the Potters.

Boy, was she in for a _treat_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next up is James Sirius!


	3. James Sirius Potter

It was no surprise to anybody that James Potter’s grandson, also named after him, was immediately sent to Gryffindor. The hat had barely grazed the tips of the same messy jet-black hair that had been sported by both his grandfather and father, as well as his little brother, that the Sorting Hat had bellowed the name of the red and gold house. It had been obvious to every professor in the room when he had strutted down the Great Hall, his back straighter than most of the other first years, a smirk on his face, that the kid was a textbook Gryffindor. Some of the older professors also smiled nostalgically at the child, stunned by his resemblance to his late grandfather. He had inherited his cheeky smile and his hazel eyes, and it almost seemed like James Fleamont Potter, age eleven, had walked into the Great Hall once more.

However, what nobody else aside from Minerva herself had noticed just yet, was that one other student seemed even calmer than Potter. A tiny young girl with stunning copper hair gathered up into a braid. From where she was sitting, she could see that the young girl looked almost bored. She exuded just as much confidence as he did but hers was cold, reserved, poised. Where he was cocky, she was regal. Potter himself did not notice her until her name was called as the list reached the letter M. The second he had placed his eyes on her however, he was not able to look away.

Isla McIntyre.

It was not surprising that she had been so regal. After all, the girl had come from a very old Scottish family that was in par with the Malfoys and Black families. As a matter of fact, her mother was originally from the same village as Minerva and if she dug a bit, she could probably find a point where both their family trees met. Never mind that. She had sat down on the stool, where Neville had placed the Hat on her head. The silence had been heavy for an entire second but Minerva had not been holding her breath. Based on her lineage, her posture, and her overall air, McIntyre only had one place to go.

 _SLYTHERIN_ , the Hat had called loudly.

The next few seconds were enough to make Minerva’s shoulders slump. Isla had smiled, before heading to the Slytherin table and James Potter, looking both awed and disappointed, had followed her with her gaze. _Sweet Godric, not again_ , she had groaned internally.

“Is everything alright Minerva,” Filius had asked, to which she had just let out a sigh in response.

“I can feel my sanity leaving out the window,” she had simply muttered, much to his surprise, before she had followed the rest of the Sorting.

First and second year had seemed quite uneventful. In fact, the two did not seem to interact much. Or at all. Minerva had tried to ignore the two as best as she could. It should have been easy. After all she did not teach classes anymore after she took on the Headmistress job. Ha. You would think. For the first two years, Potter always sat so he could easily see the Slytherin table. He was always searching for McIntyre, looking at her as if he just wanted to know what was going on in her head. And in their second year, McIntyre was sporting rosy cheeks whenever he was in the vicinity. This should have been a done deal. She clearly placed too much faith in the universe.

Because then, Albus Potter happened to befriend McIntyre. Minerva had watched him drag her and Scorpius Malfoy to the Gryffindor table. Minerva kept a watchful eye. Maybe this was it, and she would not have to get involved in anything this time. At first, everything seemed alright. Isla had been smiling as the Potter and Weasley clan had taken her in and James had looked like someone hit him in the face with a Bludger. He had yet to open his mouth. And then she saw it. The cocky smile. And right then she knew he was about to say something astronomically stupid. Merlin, how she hated being right. Because as soon as she had thought so, a frown had formed on Isla’s face. They went back and forth for a little bit as the tone rose between the two. And next thing she knew, the two had to be held back by professors and half of the Weasley and Potter families.

The relationship between the two did not seem to improve over the next few years. Though they were both outstanding students, they were constantly at each other’s throats. Potter’s favorite past time was to rile her up, always sporting the cheeky grin and radiating confidence. McIntyre was quick in her answers and had about the shortest fuse Minerva had ever seen. They were in and out of Longbottom and Khan’s offices, who were the respective heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin houses, but nothing seemed to be working. The two hated each other.

Oh, sure, they did.

It wasn’t like Minerva couldn’t see the glances. Occasionally, James would stare at Isla like she held his world in her palms. And similarly, Isla would look at James like he was the answer to all her questions. And then they would cross each other’s gaze and the serenity was gone, replaced with insults and fights. Minerva was practically tearing her own hair out. Then, sixth year had come, with both James and Isla receiving a Quidditch team captain pin in the mail the previous summer.

“I called both of you in here to make sure that there will be no issues on the Quidditch pitch,” she had said as they sat across from her, looking at both of them with a severe gaze.

“As long as Potter behaves, there should be no problem, Professor,” Isla replied.

“I am an angel, McIntyre.”

“You’re an idiot is what you are.”

“Enough, you two. At the rate this is going, I am going to end up with a mutiny. So, I would like for both of you to sit down with Professors Longbottom and Khan. This animosity between the two of you is beyond ridiculous,” she had chided.

Spoiler alert, the meeting had not helped. In fact, the tone had risen so drastically that it had been cut short. The two students had been very unsatisfied to have been interrupted and basically forced to head back to their respective common rooms. If rumors were to be believed, they had met up later to continue said argument. Minerva never put much faith in rumors. She knew better than most that the Hogwarts student body could twist a simple misunderstanding into a three acts Greek tragedy.

So, the Headmistress had tried, for the umpteenth time it felt, to give up. The stares had changed. They had become more tense, charged. Sometimes, they would meet each other’s gaze and look away. Most times, they’d fight as usual. But because of those few moments where they would hold the other’s stare, she was sucked back into it. And then one day, as she was making her way down a corridor, she saw Isla McIntyre come out of an empty classroom, fixing the headband on her long copper hair. As she had greeted the student upon passing next to her, she had seen, from the corner of her eye, another person in the room. Frowning, she had backed up and looked inside. No one. Quite strange.

The rest of the year occurred as the past few had, with Isla McIntyre and James Potter finding any given occasion to argue about one thing or the other. Minerva had seen them, however, argue quietly away from the public eye, which was rather unusual. Their fights were usually as loud and public as the other James Potter’s declarations of love to Lily Evans. Oh sure, she had tried a couple more mediation sessions between the two, the last one conducted in her office with her present. She had only stopped as she noticed their fights becoming less vicious and, more importantly, less common. She had not realized that something else was happening until early March, where Gryffindor had been playing Hufflepuff.

Everything had been going quite well, with Gryffindor in the lead. Then, the Gryffindor Seeker, a fourth year who was rather small and fragile looking though she also was agile and fast on her broom, had noticed the Snitch and headed on to catch it, only to have a Bludger heading full force towards her small frame. In the split second before her fingers had closed around the small golden ball, James had gotten between her and the missile quickly approaching her, and after a loud cracking noise, he had fallen to the ground, looking lifeless. Minerva saw her job flash before her eyes. However, the drama had not ended there. Much to everyone’s surprise, Isla McIntyre had been the first one to make it from the bleachers to the Pitch.

“James!”

She had kneeled by the boy’s side, grabbing his hand in his, her big grey eyes swimming with tears. Madam Pomfrey had then joined her, Then, after a deafening silence, the matron had let a sigh out.

“He’s breathing.”

Isla had seemed to crumple on herself. She had stayed by his side until he woke up the next morning. Minerva had gone to see him as soon as she had heard the news, only to find the two teenagers staring into each other’s eyes, with lovesick smiles on both their faces. They hadn’t even noticed that she was there until she had cleared her throat a couple of times.

She had gotten the rest of the story from the portraits, who apparently had nothing else to do with their time other than listening in on student gossip. Apparently, after their initial mediation session, the two had indeed met up again to continue their row. However, what people had failed to realize was that, in the heat of the moment, the two had ended up kissing. It somehow kept happening after every one of their fights, as it seemed like old feelings were resurfacing. Some speculated they never left and the two just did not know how to go about it, always ending up saying something stupid that offended the other.

Minerva had dropped her head on her desk in an audible _bang_. Yet again, not only was she invested in a Potter’s relationship, but she had also managed to interfere, this time without her knowledge. This time, she could not even try to promise herself that she would stop getting involved.

Not when she was already wondering why Albus Potter turned into a tomato every time he looked at the Hufflepuff table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter! Next up, Albus!


	4. Albus Severus Potter

Now Albus Potter was, by any means, the black sheep of the Potter family. It was obvious that he was not like his siblings when he was placed in Slytherin. Nevertheless, they loved him just as much as they did James, the carbon copy of his father and grandfather, or Lily, the sweetheart of the family. In fact, he had received a letter from his parents the very next day stating how proud of him they were. The kid was, however, sometimes feeling a little different from the rest of his family, and that is where Alice Longbottom came in.

Minerva had initially not thought anything of it. The two had grown up together and been friends since before they could walk. Longbottom was shy, so it had not been out of character to see her blush when someone addressed her. She was also exceedingly nice and understanding, so her doing everything she could to reassure her friend in his time of need did not ring any alarms in Minerva’s head. To be quite honest, she had been too busy trying not to lose her mind at James Potter and Isla McIntyre’s dynamic. It wasn’t until they had finally gotten together, towards the end of Albus and Alice’s fourth year that she really started paying attention. At first, she really didn’t think much of it. But then, Minerva had started to wonder why in hell Alice Longbottom seemed to stare dreamily into space whenever Albus Potter was not paying attention. And likewise, it seemed that throughout fourth year, something had changed because the middle Potter child’s cheeks would turn pink the second his eyes landed on the Hufflepuff table during meals, as he stared at Alice laughing and talking with her friends.

“Minerva, is everything alright?” Neville had asked after it had finally dawned on her one day during dinner.

The Headmistress, distressed as she had barely had anytime to breathe after the previous couple, had just sighed and shoved an entire roasted potato in her mouth to avoid screaming her frustration out loud.

She had almost forgotten about it during summer. _Almost_. She had been brutally reminded of it during Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley’s wedding, however. As she had smiled, quite satisfied, at Isla and James dancing and laughing, she had seen Albus and Alice chatting in the corner, both looking at each other with a yearning gaze. Minerva had to hold herself back from downing her drink in one gulp. And it only got worse. See, with the two Jameses and with Harry, it had been a little more bearable. The first James Potter was quite vocal about his affections and Lily Evans was equally as loud about her aversion for him. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley went through patches of being interested in other people, so she caught a break. The other James Potter and Isla McIntyre went through a plethora of trouble to put their own hatred in display. But Alice and Albus were especially frustrating. Both were like puppies. Adorable, lovesick, _yearning_ , puppies. And Minerva? She was more of a cat person if you asked her.

Everyone could see what was going on. But did the two? Nope, because that would have been way too easy on her poor nerves. So, she had had to deal with the nauseatingly sweet duo.

“Ah! It seems young Albus Severus has some issues with love,” the older Albus had stated one time, coming back to his portrait after an evening probably spent gathering portrait gossip.

“Useless, as his grandfather was,” Severus had scoffed.

“I had _just_ forgotten about the two of them and you two _had_ to come in here and remind me,” Minerva had snipped.

“But Minerva, isn’t young love so beautiful!” The bearded old Headmaster had joyfully exclaimed.

“Not particularly,” his successor had replied.

“I personally find it quite nauseating,” Phineas had piped.

_Oh, will you shut it you old ghoul?_

Minerva knew, however, that Severus regarded the young boy affectionately and met up with him regularly in other parts of the castle to discuss. Well, from what she had gathered, Albus did most of the talking, and Severus tolerated it, which was more than anyone could have asked from the grumpy man. It seemed, however, that he cared enough about the boy to listen.

“The boy is debating sending the… ah, fond object of his affections a bouquet of sunflowers this upcoming holiday.”

Minerva double checked her calendar. Valentine’s day?

“But it seems that there is no upcoming trip to Hogsmeade until after said holiday, and he is quite terrified at the idea to go ask Longbottom if he is growing any in the Greenhouses as he probably would know his own daughter’s favorite flowers, not that I would understand why he would fear a bumbling buffoon such as Longbottom. Picking them elsewhere is out of the question as they are spring flowers, from what he has said,” he had offhandedly continued, though Minerva had heard a twinge of fondness in his voice.

“Severus, may I remind you that Neville Longbottom is a Hogwarts Professor, as well as a war hero. As for young Albus, Neville may have known him since he was born, but he is still aware of how intimidating he can be.”

Nevertheless, as Valentine’s day came closer, she kept a closer eye on young Albus. She even practically forced Severus to keep her updated on the status of those darned flowers. On February the 13th, he still had not decided himself on doing anything for the next day. So, Minerva had taken the matters into her own hands.

“Minerva,” Neville had exclaimed as she walked into the Greenhouses, close to dusk. He seemed a little surprised to see her there. “How may I help you today?”

“I was in need for some flowers.”

There had been a small silence.

“Flowers,” he had repeated dumbly.

“Yes, Longbottom. Flowers. Rather pretty, fragrant, fragile if I do say so myself.”

“Certainly, Minerva,” he had agreed, trying to repress a small, amused smile from gracing his features. “Plans for tomorrow?” He had ventured, leading her through the maze of the Greenhouses.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Neville. I merely want to brighten up my office. Any daisies?”

He had simply nodded with a smile before stopping by a patch of daisies and waving his wand. An instant later, she had a rather full bouquet of daisies in her arms.

“Thank you, Neville. Well. Have a great evening. My best to Hannah.”

“You as well, Minerva,” he had replied, sounding amused.

Then, she had found herself in her office, placing the flowers in a box, and writing a small note on a piece of parchment.

_Albus, it has come to my attention that your difficulty to acquire some flowers for Alice have made you quite reluctant to put your feelings forward tomorrow. I hope that having the flowers make you a little more confident in your endeavor. They have a freshening spell on them, so they should last longer. Good luck._

As she charmed the note to look less like her handwriting, she had stopped in her tracks.

“What in Merlin’s good name am I doing?” She had asked herself out loud.

“My dear Minerva, though your methods are a bit more than what I would have done, there is no shame in wanting there to be more love in this world,” Albus had said from his portrait, a pleasant smile on his face.

Deciding she was too far gone, she had stuffed the note in the box before closing it and had asked a house elf from the kitchens to deliver it to Mr. Albus Potter in the Slytherin dorms while he was at dinner. That night, she had stayed awake, pondering over her actions. Why was the fate of the Potters’ love lives so closely intertwined with her own? All she wanted was to have some damn peace of mind, was that too much to ask? For some reason, it seemed like every time a Potter was involved, her sanity and decorum flew out the window.

It was all worth it when the next day, at breakfast, she had heard a commotion at the Hufflepuff table. Alice Longbottom seemed to have jumped into the arms of a very red, rather dopey Albus Potter, clutching a bouquet of daisies in her hands. Thankfully, Neville had already eaten breakfast earlier in the morning before heading out and would not notice that the very same flowers he had given the Headmistress the day before were now being used by one of his best friends’ son as a mean to court his daughter.

“I must say, Minerva, it is unlike you to meddle so much with teenagers’ love lives,” Severus had said later that evening as she sat in her office.

“Not a word, Severus, not a word,” she had said, rather testily.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the last time she would have to ever interfere. The universe had other plans.

Fucking universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is coming to an end! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Lily Luna is next up!


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